Oh, The Joys of Minimum Wage
by Matchin' Laces
Summary: It's hard to smile when you're working in fast food, dealing with customers and making 6.50 an hour. But it can't be too hard? Can it?
1. Chapter 1

Notes: This story is about what really happens in fast food restaurants. It's mainly for humor purposes, but some of it might actually have happened. That's what I get for working at Wendy's. Oh, and whoever guesses what the name of the restaurant means gets an appearance and the first line in the next chapter (there is a clue or two in the chapter, look out for them). Casting call is on my message board.

I started writing this a few months ago, but never got around to finishing this chapter until today, when I happened to get curious enough to open the file again and remembered how much I enjoyed writing it. There are some newsies in this first chapter, but most will appear later, as I'll introduce them gradually.

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or any fast food restaurants. I just work in one. Any misc. characters in this chapter are mine.

"Here's your order. Thank you and come again." The boy behind the counter sighed as the customer took their food and left. The painfully wide smile disappeared from his face and was replaced with one of relief. He flexed his jaw, wondering if it was still functioning after all the smiling. Then he groaned to himself as another customer entered the restaurant, "Welcome to 5 SR Cafe. How may I help you?" The smile was back in place, though it looked more sinister than the last. He quickly fixed it to be more welcoming before the customers approached.

Someone laughed quietly from beside him and he turned to the person working the other register. "Shut up Aqua," he told her in a low growl.

Aqua laughed again, the faintest hint of amusement in her ice-blue eyes. She adjusted the hat on her head, which displayed a circular clock on the front. Getting frustrated that it refused to cooperate, she removed it momentarily and repositioned it over her reddish-brown hair. She looked up at him, having to because of her 5 foot 2 height.

"Sorry Skitts," she replied, "I feel your pain." It was true. The two were the most pessimistic employees and both got stuck at the front. She smiled just as much as he usually did, not counting when he was forced to. She looked around and not seeing any other customers, started to walk to the back, "I'm going to restock." Skittery's only reply was a quick nod as he turned back to the people standing in front of him.

After he completed the order given to him and Skittery had served their food, he was distracted by a thumping noise at the back of the restaurant. Turning around and walking a few feet to his right, he saw the source of the sounds. Aqua was jumping up and down, attempting to grab a bag of cups from the top shelf. She was unsuccessful, due to the fact that the bag was inches beyond her grasp.

"Oh the joys of being short," Skittery heard her mutter. He made sure no customers were coming before walking over to her, easily reaching the bag she was struggling to get and handing it to her, a smirk on his face. She looked a bit embarrassed and annoyed, but took it from him.

"Nice," another employee stated sarcastically, walking passed.

"I couldn't find the stool," she told him, "Besides, Race, you're one to talk. You're only 5 foot 1, one inch shorter than me."

"At least I have the courage to ask somebody else to get it for me," Race stated.

"Well, Skittery was working the front and everybody else was busy," Aqua retorted, "Except for you obviously. Unless it's such a pain to change the ketchup dispensers." Race scowled, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, just their usual friendly bickering.

"Five guests," somebody called from the front. Skittery looked down at Aqua and groaned before heading back to his position. She followed soon after, just in case he needed backup.

Break Time 

Skittery sighed in relief as his boss called out for him to take a break. This was good news for him, but not such for Aqua. She was to take his position on front while he took off for thirty minutes. That normally wouldn't be a problem, but a group of ten people waltzing in did. He quickly got in line before them, intent on getting his food first. She didn't bother to smile for him.

"How come every time you take a break, I get stuck with the mob," she asked him with a sigh.

"You're just that charming," Skittery replied dryly as she totaled in his discount and took his money, "People just can't get enough of you."

"Well, I wish they would," she muttered, "If they're all on one ticket, I am not going to be happy. It wrecks our average time." Skittery simply nodded at this, as a second later, she turned back to get his food. She placed it on the tray, got his drink and then forced a smile on her face.

"You're trying too hard," he whispered to her as he picked up his tray and headed for the dining room. She groaned and reduced her smile just enough to not scare away young children.

"Can I sit here," Skittery asked one of his fellow workers, who so happened to be Swifty, the fastest drive-through operator that they had.

"Sure, but I only have ten more minutes," Swifty told him, "Then I got to run. They told me that it's getting pretty busy out there."

"Thursdays," Skittery agreed. It was always their busiest day, due to the fact that on Friday and Saturday nights, most customers would rather go out somewhere nicer than the fast food place on Main Street.

Skittery picked up his burger and started to eat, perhaps trying too hard not get any on his clothes as he bent over his tray. It truly didn't matter if the uniform got dirty. As long as you didn't pour an entire soda over your head, it was fine. Still, it was nice to not have to wash the blue, purple and black shirts after every workday.

Each employee received two on their first day of work, well most. Skittery had a blue and a black one, as did most of the guys. Some hadn't been so lucky, such as Aqua only getting a purple and black, of which the black was one size too large and therefore, rarely worn.

It was fifteen minutes later that Aqua made an appearance in the dining room, wiping down the tables and taking her sweet time doing it. Her first table was, naturally, the one right next to Skittery's own.

"How ten people can order twenty burgers is beyond me," she muttered to him, "I'm going to laugh when they all get fat!" Skittery laughed at this, but that was just how their relationship worked. On a distorted level, they understood each other and their sense of humor, something that was rare to both of them. She finished the table and then looked up with a sigh as the door opened, "More customers. I better go."

Skittery returned in another fifteen minutes, taking over the front again while Aqua rushed to restock what she could. A large crowd had arrived during his break and she didn't have time to replace what was needed in the time allotted to her between groups.

Midnight 

Clean! This was the only word that echoed through Racetrack's mind that night as he finished mopping the last of the tile floor. The bathrooms were clean, everything in the dining room restocked, vacuumed in thirty minutes, took out the trash and was just now completing the hardest task of the night. It was an awful lot of work for one person.

Occasionally, someone would be appointed to help him, but not tonight, when he desperately wanted it. He was tired, had worked up an appetite, smelled of various cleaning chemicals, and was sure that he had forgotten something. He glanced up and moaned; the ketchup dispensers were still in the condiment stand. Luckily, it was an easy task and they weren't empty enough to be replaced with a new bag. He stuck them in the fridge for the following day, rechecked his work and with approval, clocked out. He drove home in relief, relishing in the silence, save for the rock music blasting out of his speakers.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: Okay, I've decided to continue on with my story. I love all the positive feedback I've been getting, especially since I haven't posted anything new in this section in a while. I hope my work stays at the level that it started with. Sorry, I know this chapter is short, but I plan to have more in the next. Enjoy!

Oh, and since nobody has guessed what the restaurant name means (5 SR Café), I'm keeping the contest open for another chapter. Here's a clue, it has to deal with food in a sense. Think about when you were kids if that helps at all. If nobody gets it correctly, I'll post what it means in the following chapter. If you do, you'll be the first new OC to the story and have the very first line of the chapter. However, this does not mean that you won't appear in this chapter as well. Look out for cameos.

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any characters other than Aqua.

Change. Change. Change. Change! Jack sighed as the clock moved to display the new time: four o'clock. He grinned. He only had six more hours until he could go home, and he'd only been there for thirty minutes.

It wasn't the job in itself that bothered Jack. He wasn't afraid of doing any grunt work, but grunt work that included watching varying sizes of meat cook on a grill until your eyeballs could feel the heat was not on his list of favorite things to do.

"Jack, no wearing cowboy hats in the kitchen," David called out as he passed by, "Or bandanas." Of course, annoying, curly-haired assistant managers who found fault in your every move was another problem in itself.

"For the last time David, it's a sweat rag," Jack replied.

"And the hat?"

"The hat just looks cool," Jack looked smug at this line, thinking it wouldn't cause the removal of his precious headgear.

"Take them off," David demanded, "then get back to work!" Jack sighed, but did as he was told. There were only so many jobs that a college student could get while on summer break. This so happened to be the job that he had left in order to attend college. For some reason or another, they had agreed to take him back. Jack only hoped that it was short lived and he found a new job soon.

Skittery let out a breath of relief as the last customer left for the dining room. A large group had come in for the lunch rush and as many times as he had survived the onslaught, he could never get used to it.

"Excuse me," a female voice asked suddenly and Skittery looked up slowly, only to be met by a pair of blue eyes staring into his own. She had brown hair that ended at her shoulders and stood a good six inches shorter than Skittery himself.

"What can I get you today," Skittery questioned, trying not to force the words out.

"I just need an application," she spoke.

"By the door," he replied, waving a hand vaguely in the right direction.

"Thanks." Skittery watched as she pulled an application from the plastic holder, hoping that just maybe, she'd be hired to take his place.

'Take your time' was a phrase that Bumlets had grown to hate, from the very first moment that he had said them. When he had been younger, before being old enough to even have a job, he had taken the words at face value, mainly to mean 'whenever you're ready'. Now that he'd worked the front after a month of cleaning the dining room and helping as a runner, he now knew the true meaning of the phrase, which was in the simplest terms 'I'm tired, you're taking up my time. Will you please just order already?', but more than likely without the 'please' thrown into the mix.

The group of four had been standing in front of him for a good three minutes and as they were the only people in line and nothing needed to be restocked, he was doing his best to remain sane as they gawked at the menu. Since Skittery had gone on break and Bumlets was in training for the register, it was left to him to cover the front for a few moments.

It also didn't help that Aqua was standing beside him, ready to fix a mistake at a moment's notice. Aside from Skittery, she was the best register operator they had and having her scrutinizing his every move was disconcerting. However, she had let him handle it as long as he didn't have a specific problem that needed her attention. Mainly, she got everybody's drinks and ran to get the food on the trays.

When the people in line finally decided between cheese or no cheese on their burger, they ordered. He only called on Aqua's help once, when he forgot to make one of their combos a medium. It was fixed quickly though and he was grateful when they took their trays to the dining room. Only ten minutes and he could return to his usual position at the fry station. Now, that he could handle.


	3. Sigh

Notes: I know that I haven't posted or updated much of anything in awhile. Check my profile and you'll see why my time hasn't been used for fanfiction lately. Plus, I received a new laptop for Christmas, so I had to move all my files from the old machine to this one and believe me, there are a lot. Either way, I've been wanting to write something new for a while, so I hope that this is up to standards. Oh, somebody did get the name of the restaurant right, so I'll reveal it now. 5 SR stands for '5 Second Rule'. Just a little food humor. And the clue was the hat that Aqua wore, with the clock on the front.

It was in these moments that Aqua began to wonder why anybody would want to have children. They were loud and obnoxious, running their pretend cars over the backs of the seats when you were trying to clean them. Other than that, they just plain got in the way. It was also in moments like these when she wondered why her parents decided to have two kids instead of one. Then she concluded that if they had, she would have never been born and therefore, somebody else would have the crappy job at the front counter of the 5 SR Café. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

It was almost closing time and she was currently waiting for a family to clear out of the dining room. The parents were fine, but their children were nightmares. They preferred to run around the dining room and play tag in the confined space, to sitting down and eating a nice quiet meal. Not to mention that children made bigger messes and they had required a high chair. Oh, joy of joys.

She wished now that she hadn't offered to stay and close down when the manager asked who wanted to leave out of Skittery and herself. However, Skittery had been working much longer and deserved to go home before she did.

"I owe you one," Skittery had remarked as he walked out the door. At the time, Aqua had smiled politely, but now she was thinking that he did owe her, big time.

Seeing that there were no other guests waiting to be served, Aqua went on to restock what she could. It would make it easier on her later. She took note that the straws were running low, but unfortunately for her, they were kept on the top shelf. Luckily though, she was able to locate the stool.

"Finally decided to do things for yourself," Race asked, passing by to return to his position as runner for the drive-through.

"Of course," Aqua answered, "Unless you want to get them for me. Oops, sorry, I forgot, you're one inch shorter than me." Her sarcasm was somewhat more biting that night, but Race was used to it.

"I could still grow an inch," Race told her snidely, "You never know." Aqua sighed, but then smiled at the banter that had just occurred. Sometimes there was nothing better than those moments of meaningless arguing to cheer somebody up.

The next day

"Thank you. Come again," Bumlets said as he closed the drive-through window. He looked over at Bookworm, the blue-eyed girl who was currently working the fry station, "Thanks." The last order had been long and since the front counter was slow that day, she had gladly helped Bumlets bag the order.

"No problem," she answered, resisting the urge to push the strands of brown hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back with one hand. It was one of those things that was definitely on the list of things not to do when dealing with food. Instead, she busied herself by putting another bag of fries down, pushing the timer when she finished, "I'm just glad to be making money. I didn't expect to get hired so fast."

"Luckily we've been short-handed lately," Bumlets remarked, than blanched at his words, "I mean, that we had some openings so that you could work here."

"I know what you mean," Bookworm laughed at his expression, "though I wish that I was working register instead. That is definitely more exciting than this." She gestured at the basket of fries that sat in the metal bin of cooking oil. She jerked her hand back in the next second as some of the oil popped and avoided being burned.

"Oh yes, dealing with people is so much more exciting than fighting off boiling grease," Bumlets grinned, "but everyone starts off small. I started off doing the fry station too. If you're here long enough, you'll get to work register eventually."

"I sure hope so," Bookworm replied, "I'd gladly trade positions."

"I need two medium fries up front," Aqua called out suddenly, terminating their conversation.

"Well," Bookworm shrugged apologetically, "Let's see if I can conquer the boiling grease this time." Bumlets laughed, but had to stop as a 'ding' sound came over his headset. Sigh, back to work.


	4. Getting Along

Notes: Wow, I hadn't realized how long it had been since I last updated. It was brought to my attention and I've decided to try and update 1 story a week if possible. My schedule can get hectic, especially on weekends, and I'm returning to college in a couple of weeks.

I also wanted to say that this story is kind of random. If your character appears and then disappears for a while, only to show up again later, it's completely normal. There are sections; it's not on a day by day basis. Sorry that it's a really short chapter.

Disclaimer: I own the Newsies soundtrack and movie, but not the characters. Go figure. I also don't own the character of Willow. If you own her, let me know. I forgot to keep track.

Spot Conlon was not happy when a five year old dropped her drink on the floor, and especially not when the lid popped off and spilled said drink all over the tile.

Spot wasn't his real name, of course. It was Michael. He had earned it because he had been working at the 5 SR Café for two months and he was still the one cleaning everything. If someone spilled a drink, he was there to mop it up. If someone needed a table clean, he was there to wipe it off. If someone tracked dirt into the bathrooms, he was there to clean it up. If trays needed to be clean, he was there to wash them. And, most importantly, if someone needed a whack upside the head, he was happy to give it to them. Of course, with the risk of getting fired, he never used this last option, as much as he wanted to sometimes.

As he went to the back to get the mop, Spot grumbled under his breath, glad that he only had to work for another month or so before he left for college. This job was just to get some extra money. When he found it, Spot shoved the mop into the wheeled blue bucket, sloshing water outside of the container. He wrung it out and then walked back to the front, cleaning up the mess quickly and then depositing a 'Wet Floor' sign on top of the water.

"Having fun, Spot," Emma Edwards, or Willow, asked him sarcastically as he headed back to put the mop up. Her brown hair appeared almost red in the light shining above the register, perhaps betraying her inner temper.

He just shot her a glare. Her eyes were mostly blue, except for her left, which had a bit of hazel as well. These eyes matched Spot's glare until he was out of sight.

Willow was not generally a mean person, but Spot had gone over the line enough times to fuel her loathing of him. It took time to earn her trust, but one insult too many had put Spot on the eternal enemies list.

It was no secret that the two didn't care for each other and generally, they just left the other alone. Every once in a while though, one of them would throw out a remark, usually Spot, just to keep the dislike alive.

"She giving you problems," Race chuckled when he saw the look on his friend's face.

"Shut up," Spot replied, wincing after he said it. It was a weak answer, but it was his trademark phrase when he really didn't want Race bothering him. Race just grinned while Spot shoved the mop back into its holder, trying to forget that he was still working for another hour.


End file.
